feels like home
by dreamembers
Summary: "This house, sure, they'll call it their 'home'. But truth be told it isn't anything more than bricks and mortar. A place to put their things. Things like the sign that hangs in the hallway - a present from Seth's parents - that says "home is where the heart is." And if that's so - then 'home' is wherever Dean is."


There's a bright smile on Seth's face as he watches Dean cross the threshold with a large cardboard box in his arms. Arms that are covered in a light sheen of sweat which only accentuates their size and the way the muscles move under the skin. Seth knows he isn't without his own impressive physique, but _God_ , the sight just really gets him going. His appearance is certainly a far cry from the considerably scrawnier guy that waltzed into FCW all those years ago, oozing confidence despite not being as big as some other guys. It was that confidence that drew Seth to him, like a moth to a flame, and kept him going back for more.

"That the last one?" He asks as Dean sets the box down alongside the rest. Dean grunts, standing back upright and rolling his shoulders.

"Hope so. Shit, I don't even remember packing that much." Seth frowns when Dean continues to roll his shoulders, wiggling his arm out to shake the pain from the one that's given him so much bother in the past.

"Your shoulder alright?" Dean nods, though the action is betrayed by his face, which is still contorted into one of discomfort, "c'mere." Seth tugs at Dean's hand and leads him into the living room - _their_ living room. He's fairly certain he'll never get tired of calling it _theirs_.

Dean slips onto the sofa, stretching his long legs out in front of him and leaving space behind for Seth to slip into - one foot planted on the freshly-laid carpet; the other on the sofa, tucked down between the cushions, covered by one of Dean's large hands.

There's very rarely a time when a part of Dean _isn't_ touching Seth. A hand on his foot, an arm around his shoulders, a face in the crook of his neck - Dean's seemingly constant need for touch is something Seth, at one time, mistook for him just being clingy, refusing to let Seth away from him. While they've never explicitly talked about it, Seth's fairly certain it's just Dean subconsciously seeking comfort or something to ground him when _They_ start talking again. But whatever reason is irrelevant. It's not like anyone will find Seth complaining.

A groan fills the room as Seth begins to massage his shoulders, thumbs tackling the knots that litter the pale skin. A comfortable silence settles around them for a few minutes, until Dean lets out a disbelieving huff of laughter, "can't believe I bought a damn _house_. In _Iowa_."

"Don't you mean you can't believe _we_ bought a damn house in Iowa?" Seth chides, leaning forward to place a kiss just below Dean's ear. He rests his chin on Dean's shoulder, hands moving lower to focus on the lower back, and, judging the way Dean's back arches further into the touch, rids him of another tense knot.

"Mm. Yeah. _We_... We really did, didn't we? Just. Just never thought I'd have an actual house. Let alone buy one with anyone," Dean leans back into Seth, tugging the hands from behind to lace their fingers together against Dean's stomach. He noses at the underside of Seth's jaw before continuing, "never thought I'd buy a house with you."

"Why not? We've been together three years now."

Dean shrugs, pressing his nose further into Seth's neck, "didn't think you'd wanna, like, _settle_. Or- well, didn't think you'd wanna settle with _me_. Always thought you'd want someone else once you had your fill."

Seth sighs. It kills him to know that no matter what - there'll always be the voices in the back of Dean's mind making him doubt everything. All he can do is reassure him whenever they rear their ugly heads. Tightening his arms around him, he leans down until his lips are brushing Dean's ear, and hopes _They_ can hear him as he says, "I've been telling you for years, there's nothing wrong with you. You're the best thing that's happened to me. I wouldn't wanna buy a house with anyone else - I wouldn't _want_ anyone else full stop. I love _you_ , alright?"

"Yeah," Dean nods against his neck before pulling back and turning over, shuffling between Seth's parted legs on his knees. He refuses to meet Seth's gaze, instead focusing on his fingers which are tracing the lettering on Seth's t-shirt, "and I love you too. Like. Shit, I moved to Iowa with you. Traded in an apartment in the middle of Vegas for a cushy house in the that isn't love, then I don't know what is."

A red flush colours Dean's cheeks as he continues to fiddle with Seth's shirt, seemingly embarrassed by his own words. It wouldn't be the first time, and Seth has learnt not to question it. Instead, he moves his hands up to settle on Dean's hips, thumbs tucking into the belt loops, and jokes, "hope you're not going soft on me, Ambrose."

Dean's head perks up, a grin blooming as he now meets Seth's gaze, thankful for the opportunity to direct the heavy conversation away to something lighter and more manageable, "oh, babe. Don't worry. I'll always be hard for you." Seth rolls his eyes - he walked into that one really - and pushes Dean off the sofa. The room is brought to live with the sound of Dean's cackles, and Seth smiles.

This house, sure, they'll call it their 'home'. But truth be told it isn't anything more than bricks and mortar. A place to put their things. Things like the sign that hangs in the hallway - a present from Seth's parents - that says _"home is where the heart is."_

And if that's so - then _'home'_ is wherever Dean is.


End file.
